


Distracted By Love

by Barricade_Boys



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: ABC Cafe | Red and Black, Café Musain, Courfeyrac Ships Enjolras/Grantaire, Courfeyrac Ships It, Drunk Grantaire, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Enjolras Was A Charming Young Man Who Was Capable Of Being Terrible, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Grantaire is a Mess, Les Amis de l'ABC Shenanigans, M/M, Oblivious Grantaire, Pining Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15877185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barricade_Boys/pseuds/Barricade_Boys
Summary: "People are dying. Where is the love to overcome their suffering? It is merely a distraction." Enjolras argued."Love makes their suffering bearable, does it not?" Grantaire raised an eyebrow.After a rally that caused uproar against the monarchy, Grantaire watches as Marius complains of the love he feels for a woman he barely knows.And he rows with Enjolras about whether or not love truly is a distraction from the pain in the world.Little does Enjolras know that he, too, has become 'distracted by love'.Set based upon the scenes within the 2012 musical by Tom Hooper: 'Look Down' to 'Red & Black'.





	Distracted By Love

***

Grantaire watched as the people reviled up against the carriage that had rolled over to form a stage. Enjolras and Marius stood above them all, their voices loud and boastful. The people were listening; it was a positive step and he revelled in the middle of the crowd. Combeferre and Joly stood meters away from him, handing out flyers. Courfeyrac's face dropped, his ears not wanting to believe what he had heard. His voice quivered as he whispered into Enjolras' ear. 

"Lamarque is ill and fading fast." Enjolras declared, his voice callous. He looked almost distraught at the idea of losing their only voice for reason within the Government. And Grantaire was unsurprised by the hurt written upon his face. 

Marius spoke next, his voice not reaching as far as Enjolras'. The man was a God. He could organise even the most disastrous situation so that it could be managable to even a fool. He looked content upon the podium, his slender figure standing tall above the people below, his posture straight and professional. Marius, however, continued to bend down, handing out flyers as he spoke. He looked uncomfortable. 

Courfeyrac caught Gavroche on his shoulders, the small boy screaming at the top of his lungs, shouting 'Vive la France' and captivating mothers alike to look at the child whose voice projected such reckless views so loudly. 

"Down with the King!" Marius soldered, encouraging others to scream alongside him. A whistle made his head jump up, his eyes catching sight of a French militant. He looked at Enjolras, his blue eyes catching the leader's with ease and each of them mimicking one another with a nod, leaping down onto the street below. 

Grantaire spun, getting pushed around by men and women from both sides. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, being assisted back to his feet by an old gentleman in a black suit. Grantaire squinted at him, grateful for the help but confused. This man was definitely not of the class that the usual supporters were from. He was well-presented and looked positively rich. 

"Marius-" He spoke in a deep tone, his voice harsh. "Do you know of the shame you have brought upon this family?" 

Grantaire furrowed his eyebrows, assuming this man to be Marius' grandfather. He caught the stare of a thin woman, her brunette hair falling beside her ears. She looked starved, Grantaire thought. She was extremely skinny and could not be healthy. 

Enjolras grabbed Marius' arm, his grasp tight around his thin limb. He pulled him away from the gentleman and pushed him into an alleyway, Grantaire and the others pushing past the crowd to follow. His feet could not carry him fast enough, Grantaire was barely able to keep up. He watched, filled with envy, as Enjolras raced ahead with Marius in close proximity. 

"Tomorrow, we hit those people with the final blow and they will follow us to revolution." Enjolras spoke, his tone causing melancholy within Grantaire. Courfeyrac smiled, watching as his friend spoke of his gratitude for each of their help. He congratulated Marius on his speech, making Grantaire angry. Marius did nothing that the others could not have. He did nothing special. 

The brunette boy in green grasped his wine bottle with a tight grip, his head tilting backward so the liquid could slide down his throat. Enjolras' eyes scoldered him. He cleared his throat, mouth twitching at the mere smell of alcohol. 

"Put the bottle down." He ordered, not as firmly as he had hoped.

Grantaire's mouth twisted into a grin, his cheeks glowing. 

"You are losing your touch, Apollo." 

Enjolras' face scrunched at the name, his arms folding and his eyes scanning the man in front of him, callously. 

"I will take the bottle from you, Grantaire." Enjolras stated, his eyebrows meeting in the middle. Grantaire smirked, cheek following in tow as he spoke:

"I would like to see you scramble for it."

Enjolras looked infuriated by the other man, his arms folding. Grantaire knew, of all his friends, Enjolras disliked him the most. He was constantly battling with his opinions, his voice barely falling upon any other member's ears. But Enjolras continued to argue with him, always making a point to prove Grantaire wrong. And, despite it not being the interaction that Grantaire had hoped to have with Enjolras when they first met, it was good interaction that they both thrived off of. 

"You are a pain." Enjolras spat, his tone cold. Grantaire raised his eyebrows, his forehead crinkling. 

"Perhaps." Grantaire said. He was planning on continuing their talk, when Marius sat down on the table beside him. The other man looked restless, his thumbs twiddling. He was looking at Enjolras with sad eyes. Marius was used to his Grandfather disapproving of him and his views, but seeing him at a rally had clearly knocked him. "Do you want to talk about it?" Grantaire asked, offering Marius his bottle. 

"There is nothing to discuss." Enjolras said, the opposite of sympathetically. He remained standing over his friends and studied Grantaire, who frowned at the leader in red. 

"Marius is clearly upset." Grantaire challenged, making Enjolras meet his eyes. Marius shuffled, he would prefer not to speak about the matter. But he appreciated Grantaire's concern.

"Marius has nothing to be upset over." 

Grantaire put his bottle down, surprising himself as well as Enjolras. The blonde man scoffed, preparing himself for the argument that was so clearly about to befall him. 

"If you believe that, then I envy you. Not every person here finds it so easy to shut out their outside lifestyle, Enjolras." Grantaire's tone was soft, but his eyes were cold. "People are allowed to feel emotions tied to their family's hatred for their chosen lifestyle." 

Enjolras faltered, his eyes wide. He looked almost lost, but remained strong in his stance.

"Marius is clearly struggling with the matter, and you refuse to acknowledge his pain because you see the overall pain of those within France with lesser than you far greater and more important." 

Grantaire had ranted fast, stringing his words together in a hurry. They barely made sense to even him. But Enjolras took them in, all the same. And sat down in the seat beside Marius. 

"I apologise, Marius." 

Combeferre, Feuilly and Courfeyrac looked up, their mouths agape. Grantaire sat back down, feeling almost satisfied with his achievement; he had made the great Enjolras, God of the Amis, admit defeat. 

"If you would prefer to speak of your Grandfather, then I am hear to listen." Enjolras spoke with a kindess that few ever bare witness to. Grantaire glared at him, his mind trying to comprehend the situation before him. Enjolras was being kind. 

"To be honest, I am fine. But I thank you for the concern." Marius spoke with a smile, looking at Enjolras with a friendly expression. 

Enjolras then looked to Grantaire, his mouth curving into a frustrating smirk. He wavered his eyebrows and folded his arms, standing up. Grantaire swallowed hard and sighed. Enjolras' hand grabbed the wine bottle in front of him and confiscated it from the brunette, his voice proud:

"I said I would take it." 

Grantaire huffed, watching as Enjolras dropped the bottle out of the window. It fell, smashing all over the floor. Grantaire walked into the corner, sinking into a mess on the floor - similar to the bottle. He tuned out, watching as Enjolras led a speech about the plan for tomorrow. 

Courfeyrac and Marius listened intuitively at the front. And at the end, Enjolras was left alone with just Marius. Grantaire still slumbered in the corner, invisible to the world. He was sulking if he was honest; Enjolras was a pain. And he was sick of being ignored by him. 

"Are you truly alright about your Grandfather?" Enjolras asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. 

Marius nodded, regretting it after. 

"Only, Grantaire is rarely wrong." Enjolras stated, taking Grantaire out of his trance. "If you are upset about your Grandfather, then I will not judge you." 

Marius patted his back, content with the worry. 

"I am fine, honestly." 

He bid him farewell before leaving.

"Grantaire, you can leave." Enjolras said. "You are not imprisoned here, do you realise that?" 

Grantaire scoffed, standing. 

"Of course I am aware of that." Grantaire smirked, tilting his head and coming out of the shadow. "Are you aware of that?" 

Enjolras blinked, packing his stuff. 

"I am." He said.

"Right." Grantaire smiled, walking past Enjolras. Enjolras' hand wrapped itself around Grantaire's upper arm, making the older man freeze. 

"Do you want to discuss it?" Enjolras asked, ambiguously. Grantaire turned to him, his arm still tense under the grip. "Your family, I mean." 

"There is nothing to discuss." He shrugged, wriggling out of Enjolras' grip. 

"Right." Enjolras' cheeks faded from their usual pale tone. He looked almost innocent, his eyes looking to the floor. Grantaire wrapped his hand around Enjolras' wrist, making the blonde look up. 

"I appreciate your concern, though." He smiled. Enjolras swallowed, nodding. He picked up his items and bid Grantaire farewell, leaving the artist in awe. He stared after their leader with a small glimpse of hope that, perhaps, they were friends after all. And Grantaire was not just a disappointment or waste of space. 

***

Enjolras smiled at Marius, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He patted the man on the shoulder, Combeferre standing beside him and handing out flyers. 

"Vive la France!" Courfeyrac screamed, holding Combeferre's sleeve tightly so not to lose him in the surge of people. Marius' arms rubbed against Enjolras' bare skin, the leader not wearing one of his usual waistcoats because of the heat residing in the air. 

Enjolras' arms were thin and tanned, and they were bare. Grantaire was envious. He had pale arms that were ridiculed with dark hair. And freckles. 

"Enjolras, we must move." Combeferre spoke, awakening Grantaire from his usual trance. He found himself aimlessly staring at Enjolras a lot. He was infatuated with him. 

Enjolras' throat croaked, his voice cracking. 

"Same time tomorrow." He nodded towards a woman, kissing her hand lightly. She swooned, giggling with her friend. Grantaire scorned her, mentally. Enjolras was a God. He was to be worshipped, she should be kneeling at his feet. 

Marius tugged at Enjolras' sleeve, pulling him away from the crowd again. It was always a challenge to remove Enjolras from the podium. The man could rant about justice for days. And Grantaire would tune in without hesitation. But people - namely the officers of Paris - hate him for it. And would not hesitate to throw him in a prison cell. So his friends pull him away. 

The Musain was roaring, for once. Enjolras did not stand at the front, he stood around the table pointing at the map laid out in front of himself and Courfeyrac. 

Marius sank into the chair opposite where Grantaire had positioned himself in the room. Grantaire took a swig of his drink, Enjolras speaking in a serious tone:

"Do not let alcohol waver your spirit."

He caught Enjolras' eye and smirked, taking another swig in retaliation. The blonde frowned at the other man, his nose scrunching. 

"We must have clear heads for the parade tomorrow."

"Say," Grantaire started as Enjolras tuened back to his desk. He was looking directly at Marius now. "Marius, what is wrong?" 

Marius looked at him, his eyes clouded. 

"I met a girl a while back and now she continues moving - I can barely speak with her." 

Grantaire's expression turned to one of cheek, his eyes glimmering with taunting. 

"I am shocked, you speak of love, do you not?" He quizzed, spinning and walking over to Marius in a daze. Joly sniggered from beside him, a cigar hanging from his lips. 

Marius responded with a nod. 

"You talk of alcohol being a cause of blinding, and here Marius is infected by love." He projected his voice enough to gain Enjolras' attention. 

Courfeyrac's face dropped as he watched Enjolras turn to face the pair of men in front of him. Enjolras looked infuriated. And Marius was flushing a bright red. 

"All I am saying, is that - I do not - oh, Enjolras, she was captivating." Marius said, putting his hand on Enjolras' arm. "If you had been there today, if you had seen her, I believe even you would understand how I feel." 

Grantaire grinned at the idiocy of Marius' words. Enjolras felt nothing for anyone but Patria. 

"Marius, it is crucial that we stay focussed. This woman is not important." 

"She is important to me, Enjolras." Marius said. Grantaire cringed. It was positive that, maybe, Marius' affections would make Enjolras take a step back from putting him on a pedestal. But Marius was dim, he was blind to Enjolras' hatred of love. 

"Marius, we must stay on task. You are no child, this girl is nothing. France needs liberty, you do not require love." 

Marius scoffed, making Grantaire frown. Was he really about to question Enjolras? Surely not. 

"I apologise for my distraction, but she is a beautiful woman. And I truly believe that I am in love." 

Grantaire gripped his bottle tighter, pouring a little bit of wine into a mug and handing it to Marius, to add to Enjolras' frustration. 

"The man is in love, Apollo." 

Enjolras' head flipped and tilted at the brunette, him biting his lip. He looked furious, like a lion about to attack. And Grantaire was unsure as to what was making him angrier: Marius' love or Grantaire's drinking, or the nickname. 

Enjolras glared at Grantaire, pleading with him silently to be quiet. 

"France is in dire need of saving, the monarchy must be stopped. Love is not important." Enjolras frowned. 

"She is glorious, Enjolras. She is beautiful."

"She is 'beautiful', Apollo." Grantaire repeated with a snigger, pride bubbling inside of him at how irritated he was making Enjolras. 

"She is graceful, too." 

"Oh, 'graceful', Apollo." 

"Would you stop, Grantaire?" He snapped, his voice unkind but tender. He turned back to Marius and sighed. "Do you truly expect me to understand?"

"I do, I am in love." 

Grantaire choked a laugh. Enjolras frowned. 

"The world is changing, soon love will mean nothing." 

"Love overcomes all else." Grantaire spoke, feeling his voice shake. His love for Enjolras had allowed him to overcome his cynical view of the world, so he was an advocate for that fact. 

Enjolras snarled, his shoulders shrugging. 

"People are dying. Where is the love to overcome their suffering?" 

"Love makes their suffering bearable, does it not?" Grantaire raised an eyebrow. 

Enjolras' words vanished in his throat, his mind unable to come up with with a liable response. He frowned instead, as Marius stood up. 

"Listen!" Courfeyrac called, lifting Gavroche up onto his shoulders. The young boy cleared his throat, speaking with his usual innocence:

"General Lamarque is dead." 

Enjolras wavered, glancing to Marius. Marius was distracted, still. So Grantaire watched as Enjolras stood.

"General Lamarque's funeral will be tomorrow. We will march then." 

Everybody's faces fell. 

Grantaire caught sight of the skinny girl from the rally, her face lighting up at the sight of Marius. She welcomed him over and smirked. 

"You found her?" Marius asked. The girl nodded, her cheekbones sharp. Grantaire looked to Enjolras, who was also watching the exchange. Marius glanced at him quickly, mouthing an apology before leaving with the woman. 

Enjolras sighed, getting up from the seat again. Grantaire let him go, moaning to himself for not inviting him to stay with him. 

The meeting dragged after that, and Grantaire did his usual and stayed sat in the corner, drinking wine, mercilessly. He caught Enjolras' gaze a few times and warmed, but stayed out of his way. Combeferre was the last to leave that night, his voice soft as he bid the pair of them goodnight. 

"Would you like to discuss it, Apollo?" Grantaire asked, taking a seat beside his leader. 

Enjolras looked up, noticing a friendly expression on Grantaire's face. 

"I do wish you would stop calling me that." Enjolras said, in a soft tone, his head in his hands. "I am not a God." 

Grantaire smirked, a wide grin residing on his face. 

"Do you wish to speak of what is troubling you?" He inquired again, putting the bottle down. Enjolras let a small smile present itself upon his face, asking:

"Do you?"

"Perhaps." Grantaire said. "But you begin." 

"No, yourself first." Enjolras said. "Tell me about your family." 

Grantaire flushed. The man was so selfless. His hero had just died.

"You do not care for my family problems, Apollo." 

Enjolras frowned, placing his hand on Grantaire's arm reassuringly.

"I am not as ignorant as you appear to believe." 

"There is not much to say-"

"Confide in me." Enjolras smiled, intently. 

"I believe I am the only one that feels this way; I miss my family sometimes." He shrugged, his mouth drying at the mere thought of his parents. "I miss the innocence I had before coming here. Myself and my parents - we do not get on well." He admitted. "They believe me a failure. And they are ashamed that I would flee to fight for a cause they do not believe in." 

Enjolras furrowed his brows, nodding along as he spoke. 

"Do you believe in what we stand for?" 

Grantaire squinted his eyes at Enjolras. 

"I do." 

Enjolras' heart warmed, hearing that was reassuring. He had always thought Grantaire despised the cause and stuck around for nothing other than alcohol. 

"Then their opinion is merely an incentive to carry on fighting for a cause that you believe in." Enjolras' tone was serious. 

"Tell me, what is your worry?" Grantaire asked, feeling too much pressure. 

"Before I bore you with that, I want to state that it is more than alright to feel how you do." Enjolras smiled, bearing his teeth slightly. He had nice teeth, Grantaire had always noticed. But very few people got to see them, he was a happy person but he rarely smiled. "I often feel like you do, though I would never return home." 

"Nor would I." Grantaire smiled. "Father much prefers my sister and Mother-"

"You have a sister?" Enjolras inquired. 

"Yes, though she is engaged. So do not get any ideas, Apollo." Grantaire joked. Enjolras took the jest as an accusation and bit the inside of his mouth, his eyes narrowing. 

"I would not-"

"I know." Grantaire nudged him slightly. 

"Grantaire." Enjolras placed his hand upon Grantaire's cheek, gaining the older man's attention. "You are no failure." He licked his lip, awkwardly and stroked his hand down Grantaire's face before removing his hand. 

"Thank you, Apollo." Grantaire smiled, barely believing the words. "Speak of your issue, Apollo." He invited. 

Enjolras blushed. 

"It is not so much a concern." He said. "Though-" He stopped, looking at Grantaire and realising that he was speaking to the man that he once believed to be incapable of a normal conversation. And he noticed the absence of alcohol within his hand. 

"It is about Marius, is it not?" 

"It is." Enjolras said, looking down at the floor. 

"Apollo, love works in a mysterious way." Grantaire said. Enjolras snarled, did the man sat before him think him to be that uneducated on the matter? Clearly so.

"Why do you call me Apollo?" Enjolras changed the subject, tilting his head. Blush featured itself upon Grantaire's face, his mind racing for a good excuse. 

"I just do." He shrugged, unable to come up with a better excuse. Enjolras laughed, his teeth shining. Grantaire noticed that he had a crooked tooth, but somehow it added to his features. He became more fascinating. And it fit so well in place that it may has well have been straight. 

It could, however, be a metaphor for Enjolras. He looks as though he fits into society but he's fighting to get away and make things better for others. He was selfless, and Grantaire adored him. 

"You - just do?" Enjolras wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Look, Apollo, you are you and I am I." Grantaire stated, rather bluntly. "I named you 'Apollo' because you are the light, to so many people, you represent hope for a new world and you will lead the people to victory tomorrow." 

"Right. Hope." 

"Apollo, you should not allow Marius' blindness to see that the cause is far more important than love cloud your judgement." 

"I have not." 

Grantaire looked up, meeting Enjolras' eyes. The younger man, he swore, blushed and looked back down. He looked uncomfortable. Grantaire was making Enjolras uncomfortable. 

"Cosette is a nobody anyway." Grantaire said, randomly, making Enjolras snort. "What?" 

"You do not believe that." He spoke with jest. Grantaire shrugged, smiling.

"Perhaps I do not."

"You do!" Enjolras' mouth fell agape. "I thought that you were an advocate for love." 

"I was." Grantaire said. "But some things are more important than love." 

"Love makes suffering bearable-" 

"Love causes suffering, also." Grantaire cut him off, feeling his heart beat aggressively in his chest. 

Enjolras shivered, glaring at Grantaire now. He noticed that the older man refused to look at him. Grantaire's hands were cold, the man was freezing. Enjolras was impulsive, then, and took his jacket off, wrapping it around Grantaire. 

"What are you-"

"You are cold, are you not?" Enjolras' voice was unanimous. Grantaire looked confused. 

"How did you-"

"I know." Enjolras mouthed. 

"You know what-"

Enjolras let out a small sigh, shuffling forward and leaving his seat to kneel in front of Grantaire, looking up at his face and placing his hand upon his cheek. He pressed his forehead to Grantaire's and whispered:

"I know." 

He tilted his head, his lips caressing Grantaire's, taking the older man by surprise and making him shiver again. Enjolras closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss deeper and opening his mouth, allowing Grantaire's tongue to enter. Grantaire brushed his hand through Enjolras' curls before pulling away, leaving Enjolras to open his eyes and lick his lips in confusion.

"You know what, Enjolras?" 

Enjolras faltered, swallowing hard. Grantaire called him by his name. Not 'Apollo'.

"Love - it can cause an endless amount of suffering." 

Grantaire smiled. Enjolras just said he loved him, if he had not heard wrongly. 

"Not anymore." 

Enjolras reached forward again, to be met with Grantaire's hand in his face, pushing him back and making him land in a slump. 

"Have I-"

"Not at all." Grantaire said. He offered Enjolras his hand, pulling the taller man up and pushing him against the wall, pressing his lips to Enjolras' once again. It felt euphoric and dreamlike; and if it was a dream, he would make the most of it while he could. Enjolras sank down, his legs unable to hold him up any longer. He closed his eyes, as Grantaire stood above him. 

The older man faltered, sitting down beside him. Enjolras' head landed upon his shoulder. 

"I apologise." He said, making Grantaire's heart yearn. 

"What-"

"For always disregarding you before today." Enjolras spoke with unease, his voice cracking. 

Grantaire smirked, putting his arm around Enjolras' shoulder. 

"Love can make you do odd things."

"I love you." Enjolras stated. Grantaire smiled down at him. 

"I love you too, Enjolras." 

"Apoll-"

"Enjolras." Grantaire placed a kiss on Enjolras' forehead, allowing the younger man to fall asleep on his lap after collapsing from his shoulder. It did not occur to Enjolras, nor Grantaire, that they were still at the Musain. Until Marius arrived for the meeting the next morning. 

He looked positively charged, his energy far too much for anyone so early in the morn. Grantaire despised his ability to always have energy flowing within him. Enjolras stirred beneath him, his eyes opening and squinting at the bright sunrise. 

"Good morning!" He beamed, making Enjolras stir upon Grantaire's thigh, turning to face the opposite direction, facing Grantaire's torso rather than the man that had just entered. "I went to see Cosette, she is beautiful." 

Grantaire squinted at the man. He was so blind. Did he not realise that they wore the same clothes as yesterday?

"That is great." Grantaire said, his tone in complete opposition to his words. 

"She is positively beautiful." 

"Marius - Enjolras is trying to sleep." Grantaire stated, making Marius tilt his head. He smiled.

"Apologies, your Heighness." 

Enjolras jumped up, his hair untouched but still better than Grantaire's ever could be. 

"Marius, so help me-"

"Are you threatening the poor Marius again?" Courfeyrac's chirp came from the stairs. Combeferre followed close behind, his eyes scanning both Enjolras and Grantaire with confusion. 

"Did you not go home last night?" He asked from behind the Irish man.

Enjolras blushed, his cheeks burning a crimson colour as he looked at Grantaire. The older man kept his cool, standing up. 

"Enjolras appears to have stayed to plan." Grantaire said. "I slept in the corner, drunk" 

Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Right." Combeferre questioned them, of course he did. But not verbally. 

"Today, we fight." Enjolras stood, rubbing his hands together. "Where is everybody else?" 

"Already in their places. You are late." 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire with disregard. Late? How could he be late to his own plan? This was precisely why he had told Marius not to fall in love. They needed a clear head. 

But Enjolras was infatuated with Grantaire, and unable to shake the image of his smile and the touch of his lips upon his own from his mind. He closed his eyes. 

"Let us prepare for a battle." He said. "Today is the day we seize power from those unworthy: and save those poor souls that are suffering." 

"Apollo." Grantaire smirked, knocking Enjolras back into the moment. "They left down the stairs." 

"Right." Enjolras blushed, for the first time since Grantaire met him.

"Oh, and Apollo?" 

"Yes?" 

"I love you too." He smirked. 

"What-"

"I suffer for you." Grantaire said, planting a kiss on Enjolras' lips. "I follow you blind." 

"Not blind-" Enjolras pushed Grantaire against the wall, his lips bruising at the touch. 

"Enjolras!" Courfeyrac's voice called. "Stop getting distracted!" 

"Yes, Enjolras." Grantaire pulled away, smirking. "Stop getting distracted." 

Enjolras flushed, planting one last kiss on Grantaire's lips before pulling him down the stairs. 

Grantaire forgot to pick up his wine: he was too distracted by the blonde boy in front of him. 

The boy that had allowed himself to become distracted by love for another.

***

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I am distracted by the love that Grantaire and Enjolras feel for one another, too. 
> 
> I am basically Courfeyrac. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story. It was so much fun to write. I love their relationship so much.


End file.
